


Favorite

by CapnShellhead



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 2018 Stony MCU Bingo, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 08:44:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnShellhead/pseuds/CapnShellhead
Summary: Steve challenges himself to be Tony's favorite Avenger.





	Favorite

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was a challenge of my own to see how many 2012 era Avengers tropes I could shove into one fic. It was originally just a short little fic, about 1k words and grew longer and longer, unfortunately. Anyway, this has been an exercise in fluff. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> For the "sharing a bed" space on my bingo card.
> 
> Now I can move onto the angst drafts I've been working on.

“This is a bad idea. You get that, right?” Steve asks nervously, tugging on his tie. Tony rolls his head along the headrest to stare at him, clearly bored. “This is a bad idea. I’m not your guy.”

Tony smiles amusedly and Steve blushes. This had been happening more and more these days. Two years alongside Tony Stark and Steve was blushing like he was hoping Tony would ask him to the prom. He doesn’t get it. The guy was a menace. Annoying in just about every way, or at least he had been in the beginning. Over time, it had moved from annoying to begrudgingly endearing and then shot straight into adorable and here we are.

Two years in and Steve Rogers can’t hold a conversation without embarrassing himself.

“You are totally my guy,” Tony drawls. He turns to face Steve head on while Steve’s hands start to sweat. Unlike Steve, he looks amazingly at home in the fancy duds Pepper’s PR consultant picked out for them. Steve is in a navy-blue dress shirt that sticks to him so closely, he wonders what kind of establishment they’re headed to. Tony is wearing a red shirt because they had to dress in some manner so as to remind the audience that they were indeed Captain America and Iron Man. No matter, Tony looks amazing in every color. “You’ll be fine.”

“I’m gonna screw it up.”

“It’s thirty minutes. An hour tops.”

“I’m gonna screw it up,” Steve insists and Tony scoffs, honest to god pouting.

“Why do I bother giving you advice? You never take it. ‘You should get out once in a while’, ‘Take a day off, Cap’, ‘The work’ll still be here tomorrow’,” he repeats in a dull voice.

Steve smiles despite himself, “You realize you’re poorly imitating yourself, right?” Tony rolls his eyes and pokes Steve with his finger.

“You’re gonna be great.”

“And how would you know that?” Steve asks.

“You don’t know how to be anything but,” Tony replies firmly.

 

Steve stands beside Tony backstage, heart in his throat. He’d done countless USO shows, some press during the 40s and he used to know how to speak to reporters but press these days isn’t anything like what he was used to. They didn’t follow celebrities to the grocery store in the 40s. There weren’t lip sync battles or obstacle courses to complete. There weren’t a lot of sex tapes back then either and Steve is eternally grateful Fury hadn’t been the one giving that lecture.

His hands are shaking because, despite Tony’s easy confidence, Steve really is nervous. They need this to work: the public was still reeling after the Chitauri and, though the majority were on the Avengers’ sides now, after Harlem and what happened with Thor in New Mexico, they weren’t totally sold. So, it had been Pepper’s idea to hire a PR person to try to do the unthinkable: sell safety to America.

Steve was a virtually clean slate. He’d never been in the spotlight as Steve Rogers in the 40s and only military members knew who he was but that anonymity hadn’t lasted long after his mask got ripped off during the Battle of New York. Thor is known only as the attractive, alien god associated with the destruction of Puente Antiguo. Bruce is unknown as the Hulk and it was best if he stayed that way. Natasha and Clint’s real names are unknown to the public and it would definitely stay that way.

The only other person with a public identity they can use is Tony. Although, he’d been extremely hesitant to take this on from the beginning. Steve had a hard time understanding why; Tony is a natural in front of the cameras. He’s an expert at dodging questions, knew how to loosen up the coldest of interviewers and, for such a sarcastic little shit, he’s a whiz at spinning negatives into positives. Yet, when Janice announced the planned press tour, Tony clammed up instantly and insisted someone else go in his place. The only reason he’s here beside Steve is because the world already knows that he’s Iron Man.

Now, Tony bumps Steve with his shoulder and flashes a reassuring smile. “I see they got you all dolled up for the cameras.”

“No, that’s just for you,” Steve replies dryly and it’s worth it for the surprised glee in Tony’s eyes. Of all the people Steve had gotten to know, Tony seems to be the only one that saw this side of him. Still, it’s nice to surprise him from time to time by reacting in kind to Tony’s obvious teasing. Tony shakes his head fondly and returns to watching the stage. Just in time for the host, Cheryl, to call them on.

They’re seated on a couch, the audience a little too close for Steve’s comfort. It’s a smaller set, which made it a little easier. Tony was sat inches away from him and two minutes into the interview, Steve realizes it’s Tony’s scent in his nose. He smells like a mix of expensive cologne and metal. It’s driving him crazy, the urge to lean in and breathe in more of it kept him on edge the entire time. He starts to wonder if the scent is seeping into his shirt sleeve where Tony’s arm presses against him.

Then Tony throws his arm over Steve’s shoulder in the middle of some story and Steve tries to focus. Except now he’s warm and enveloped in the scent. He hasn’t said a word since greeting the host and how could this make for great entertainment? He’d be mortified when he watched the show later.

Steve tunes in as they’re talking about tweets or some type of comment section on the show’s homepage; Steve’s not entirely sure. The host turns to him, hopeful and Steve would certainly apologize later. Beyond being an idiot, he’d been impolite during this interview and she’d done nothing to deserve it.

“We were all wondering, who’s your favorite?” she asks excitedly. Steve blinks at her, not sure exactly what she’s referring to.

“Favorite…?” he rasps, trailing off.

“Your favorite Avenger,” she clarifies and Steve’s brain shuts off for a moment. What an odd question to ask. Every answer stands the risk of either offending someone not chosen or giving the anti-Avenger crowd more cause to single out one of their roster as unworthy. Steve can’t be a part of that. Aside from being team captain, it’s mean.

But he can see by her breezy exterior, it’s supposed to be a lighthearted thing. One of those times a smoother person, more used to these kinds of puff pieces would crack a joke or just pick an Avenger and make a sarcastic comment. Steve cringes internally because he’d never been good at stuff like that. Not on the spot and not with people he didn’t know. What if he gave a line and no one knew he was joking? He starts to sweat, looking to Tony who had remained perfectly congenial throughout the interview.

As if sensing Steve’s discomfort, Tony leans forward. “Oh, come on, Cher, that’s like asking us to pick a favorite child.” She giggles and he indulges her with a smile before shooting Steve a sidelong glance. It was a look that said ‘worst part of the job, huh?’ and he’d been giving Steve this look all day. It had worked earlier and it works now; Steve relaxes some, hiding a smile when Tony pets his shoulder.

“Please, we won’t tell anyone,” she jokes.

Tony shrugs, “Alright. Mine is Thor: hands down. The man’s a god. A _literal_ god! You can’t beat that,” he adds with a bawdy wink that earns another giggle.

 _Thor?_ Steve blushes, consciously avoiding meeting Tony’s eyes. Thor was Tony’s favorite? Tony nudges him with his elbow, flashing a bright smile but Steve’s insides twist. He pastes on a semblance of a smile and forces out a laugh. It’s convincing enough to get through the last of the questions and before he knows it, they’re sliding across the leather seats in Tony’s limo.

Tony climbs in beside him and Steve’s quieter mood hadn’t gone unnoticed. He leans against the seat and props his feet up on Steve’s lap. “You okay?”

“Must you?” Steve asks, gesturing to Tony’s feet.

“I must,” Tony replies. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Steve says lightly. He taps Tony’s foot and earns a smug grin. Rolling his eyes fondly, he changes the subject. “I’m starving.”

“How about Italian?” Tony asks, brows raised.

“Italian,” Steve repeats slowly, his eyes catching on a bead of sweat travelling down Tony’s neck. He swallows, “We feeding the rest of the team?”

“I suppose,” Tony drawls, closing his eyes and resting his head back. “You’re too good to them.”

+

Steve tries not to let it get to him.

It was just a joke; a throwaway comment. And honestly, Steve should be grateful. Tony had only taken the question because Steve froze like a deer in headlights. It was nothing. It’d meant nothing. It’s fanservice as Janice had called it. Steve is being stupid.

Except, Tony had come up with that answer rather quickly. As thought it’d been at the forefront of his mind. Because it’s true.

Steve tries to ignore it but he can’t help noticing a few things.

When they set the food down in front of the team, Thor literally sweeps Tony off his feet in a bear hug. Mostly because he’s grateful; he reacted similarly whenever anyone brought food for the team but he seemed to do it to Tony more often than anyone else. Tonight, Tony lets out a surprised laugh and pets Thor, asking to be set down. Maybe Steve is being silly but Tony seems a little too fond of having Thor’s arms around him.

He recalls that time they dressed up for the Richards Gala and Tony paid a little too much attention to making sure Thor’s bowtie was straight. Clint’s looked like he’d been using it to shine shoes but Thor’s was a centimeter too low on the left side so of course, Tony had to fix that. He’d forced the god into a chair to correct it for him, his tongue caught in his teeth as he focused. To an outsider, Thor appeared to be watching Tony with casual curiosity but to Steve, he was gazing into Tony’s eyes.

Then there was the time the monster of the week had thrown Thor into a building. Tony had lectured Thor for not heeding his advice and Steve remembers the worry lines on Tony’s face. His hands never left Thor’s shoulders until the god had been thoroughly checked out by medical and it was such a far cry from the way Tony treated Steve, it was almost laughable. When Steve got injured, Tony made sure to yell at him all the way to the med bay and then some more after that until the doctor showed up. Then he was usually in such a foul mood that he nitpicked the physicians to death and demanded to see their qualifications. Most likely because he knew it drove Steve crazy to be sat down like an irresponsible child in the first place. It got to the point that Fury assigned a specific doctor to Steve because Dr. Choi actually managed to pass muster and had no problem telling Tony to shut the hell up.

Then, there was also the fact that, when Thor brought Jane over, Tony suddenly had all the time in the world to spend with Steve. Like his favorite blond was otherwise occupied and Steve was the next best thing. So, he roped Steve into his marathon of Grey’s Anatomy and complained about how saccharine the music was. He delayed Steve making dinner with a million and one questions and poorly disguised attempts to sneak bites of Steve’s dessert. He started working out when Steve was in the gym and distracting Steve by simply being there. Because he was annoying, of course.

Steve spends the rest of dinner that night recalling all the ways in which Tony treated Thor differently and wondering if Tony was telling the truth during the interview? It had been known to happen from time to time. And maybe Steve had been overthinking it: it wasn’t like Natasha was apt to take offense to Tony’s comment and give him the cold shoulder. Bruce wasn’t petty. Clint would probably just roll his eyes and make a snide comment. Thor would be gracious about it.

And Steve?

Steve is overreacting.

Why did it matter? Tony, for all appearances (teasing aside), is straight and it didn’t mean anything. Not that it would be terrible if it did. If Tony found Thor attractive, well that’s his business. Steve should feel sorry for him because Thor is very clearly in love with Jane Foster. Even so, if things didn’t work out between them and Thor became single… if Tony wanted to go on dates with Thor, that’s his prerogative. If he wanted to snuggle up next to Thor during movie night, more power to him. If he wanted to follow Thor back afterwards… that was Tony’s business.

+

That being said, it’s just morbid curiosity that leads to Steve pulling out his laptop a few nights later and googling “Thor + favorite Avenger”. Of course, several sites talking about the team pop up but eventually, he finds a twitter poll from someone named “Avengershoe”. Steve cringes internally but finds himself opening it. The poll ended a month ago but there were several responses below. Tony had won the poll, interestingly enough.

Scrolling down, Steve sees someone named “BlackWidows” had written, “This isn’t fair. Where’s Widow?” which had been liked several times and Steve silently agrees. Natasha is as much a part of the team as Steve, Tony, Thor, and Bruce are. Clint is also missing from the poll.

Someone named “CapnAmerica” had written, “Why should we pick a favorite? They’re all heroes” and Steve enthusiastically agrees. There are several comments below with similar sentiments yet over a thousand people had voted, Steve notes bitterly. He resigns himself to giving up when he spots a comment by someone with a Thor icon.

“AsgardianBabe” had written, “Thor’s clearly the best Avenger. Look at him! He’s a god and he came down to earth to protect us because he’s a hero. Plus, the guy’s so much fun! Have you seen him dance on Ellen? I want to marry him.”

Steve frowns. He had seen Thor dance on Ellen. He’d tried to follow along with the host and nearly tripped over his own two feet. The audience ate it up, several volunteering to dance with him and, according to Fury, it gave the show its highest ratings ever. Was that why Tony liked Thor the best? Because he was fun?

Steve could be fun. Sure, he hadn’t been lately but he could be. He hadn’t always been this serious but they had a job to do and if he didn’t focus… he sighs. “Fair point, AsgardianBabe.”

He figures out how to click on a comment and see the responses to that one tweet in particular. In response to “AsgardianBabe”, “ThorsGal” had written, “Totally agree. Why is this a contest? Thor could bench-press a semi-truck.” Below that, “MajorRyan” had written, “I wish he would benchpress me”, which had several likes.

Steve’s jaw tenses. He’s pretty damn strong, too. He couldn’t take down buildings the way the Hulk could but he’s stronger than the average human. Surely, it isn’t brute strength that impressed Tony or Hulk would be his favorite.

“LeslieStark” had written, “His hair looks so soft. I wanna run my hands through it.”

Steve grips his close-cropped hair. He hadn’t quite grown it out past the army approved haircut and he didn’t intend to, to be honest. Is Thor’s style a popular style here? He’d passed a few men on the street with long hair but Thor is the only person Steve knows with hair that length.

“Hawkass” had written, “Did you see that interview with Iron Man where he said Thor was his favorite? I ship it!” Below that, “WidowBites” had written, “Yes! Glad I’m not the only one. They’d look amazing together!” and “IronWoman94” had written, “Can you imagine? Thor totally tops.” Steve’s confused for a moment until he put the context clues together and closes the browser window in haste.

His face flushed, a tinge of arousal in his stomach as he stared at his wallpaper. Then he sighs: it’s a picture of the team smiling at a movie premiere for some action flick in London. Tony’s arm around his shoulders proudly. He beamed for the camera while Steve only flashed half a smile, his arm around Tony’s waist.

He suddenly feels a little ashamed.

People seriously write things like that about them? About real people? They thought about who amongst the team would do what to whom and who would be _on top_? He closes the laptop but he can’t get the images out of his mind. Thor holding Tony down, kissing him, _touching_ him. He didn’t have to try very hard seeing as Thor touched him so much already.

The more images his mind conjured, the more flushed he got. He stood up and paced for a moment. Why did this bother him so much? Why did he care what a bunch of strangers on the internet thought?

Because maybe they’re right. Maybe Tony is actually interested in Thor.

Why does that matter?

 _Because it’s based on stupid reasoning_ , Steve concludes. He lies back on his bed and crosses his arms behind his head. “That’s all,” he says out loud.

If he tried, if he put effort into it, Steve could be Tony’s favorite. It wouldn’t be that hard.

+

“Okay, this has to be my new favorite sight,” Tony announces with a grin.

Thor and Steve are shirtless, covered in sweat and trying their best to overthrow each other. Well, Steve is. Tony doesn’t know a lot about fighting technique but from where he’s standing, Thor is putting a lot less effort into blocking Steve’s attempts. It’s quite a sight and one Tony is sure fanboys would die to see.

“Nice one,” Thor praises when Steve lands a pretty solid tap on his left side. He counters with a matching one almost immediately which seems to darken the flush on Steve’s face.

Steve grumbles and makes the mistake of looking over towards Tony’s spot in the corner. He’d bent over to pick up one of his practice gauntlets and his pants were awfully form fitting. It wasn’t proper gym attire and Steve swallows, about to lecture him about it but he has the worst timing. As soon as he let himself get distracted, Thor grips his forearm and flips him over his shoulder. He lands rather roughly on his back, the wind knocked out of him as Thor bends over him concernedly.

“Captain? Captain, are you alright?”

Steve coughs, vision blurring for a second as he caught his breath. Tony appears, staring down at him worriedly. Thor frowns, looking from Tony’s concern to Steve’s embarrassment and then back again. His head cocks to the side and Steve can only imagine what conclusions he’s drawing. He reaches a hand down to Steve and Steve takes it gratefully.

“You okay, Cap?” Tony asks worriedly. Steve nods, breath coming out in harsh pants. To tell the truth, Thor had gone easy on him and he knew that. Steve had gone up against impossible odds before. Certainly, less now than before the serum but he hadn’t forgotten the adrenaline rush from dodging more than attacking because he knew he didn’t have the upper hand. And to Thor, this is just training for fun and not a childish way to stroke his own ego and prove a point to himself. Steve curses himself.

Steve waves Tony off, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just lost my footing, is all.”

“You sure? He slammed you down pretty hard,” Tony says worriedly. Steve shifts awkwardly as his cheeks warm and insists that he’s fine. Tony frowns at him but starts back towards the weights again, replying, “Thor, be careful with him. He’s not as big as you, man.”

Steve cringes, face burning. Thor nods like a scolded child and turns back towards Steve, treating him with a knowing eye. Then he smirks, voice low, “Shall we continue?”

+

Steve groans, moving stiffly as he makes his way back to his room. So, Thor’s stronger than him. He’d known that going in. He has more going for him than super strength. He has… intelligence. Battle strategy and an eidetic memory. Those are useful things. Tony probably values intelligence more than strength anyway, right?

Steve calls Jane Foster and tries to glean as much as he can about astrophysics in an hour.

She gets a little frustrated over time, “Steve, Steve, slow down. Don’t get me wrong: any other day, I would be more than happy to wax poetic about microcosms and all forty pages I had to nix from my dissertation but are you really sure this is the best play?”

“What?” he asks confusedly.

She sighs and Steve swears he can hear an eye roll over the phone. “We’ve met quite a few times. At parties and one enlightening moment on a balcony after Thor had a terrible idea we will never speak of again.”

“You can keep my shirt, by the way,” Steve interjects.

“Thank you,” she says gratefully. “My point is, there were numerous occasions for you to ask me about what I do and you didn’t. Not beyond the polite inquiries that come with meeting someone for the first time. Which is fine; I get it. It’s not for everyone. All this to say, the fact that you’re asking now makes me think that you have an ulterior and slightly more interesting motive. One of the short, snarky billionaire variety? Am I warm?”

Steve blushes, pulling the phone away from his ear and resting it against his forehead. Tony is at the root of this but not for the reasons she thinks. He just thought learning more about space would be an easy way in. Tony’s a total space nerd: he commandeered the television every time there was some program about NASA on PBS. Steve had walked in on Tony midway through what had to be a 4-hour conversation with Bruce about the current data on black holes. He couldn’t watch a single episode of Doctor Who without Clint screaming at him for criticizing the science behind it.

Beyond Steve’s stupid competition with himself, he’d thought this would be a great way for them to bond. That’s all. And he tells Jane that. She doesn’t believe him but she helps him regardless.

Unfortunately, the next time Steve finds Tony, he’s engrossed in a documentary on the mysteries brought forth by their new alien comrades. And Thor is already twenty minutes into a spiel on einstein-rosen bridges and the bifrost, in such detail that even Tony is enraptured. Steve sighs and makes to return to his room but Nat spots him. She waves him over and he shuffles over to sit next to her. He watches Thor answer Tony’s enthusiastic (and numerous) questions. Steve rests his head on Nat’s shoulder and accepts the blanket she tosses over him in sympathy.

Midway through the show, Tony looks around the group, a little hesitant as he says, “Thanks for watching this with me, guys. I know it’s probably really boring.”

Clint tosses a pillow at him with a wry, “I could be watching Dog Cops.” Steve kicks his shoe with a warning glance. Clint rolls his eyes, adding, “But this is pretty interesting. When you and blondie aren’t nerding out about it. Shhhh.”

Steve doesn’t know how Tony knows; he’d been too far to have seen it and Steve’s pretty discreet. Still, he offers Steve a grateful smile and Steve returns it, settling in to watch the rest of the film.

+

“There a reason you dragged me here,” Tony asks as Steve pushes the shopping cart through the aisles. Tony huffs out a breath and starts listing, “One, I have a service that can do this lovely job for me. Two, you know I’m going to complain the whole time. Three, I don’t think I’m going to be much help to you here.”

He hops on the side of the cart and stares at Steve curiously. Steve rolls his eyes and says, “Get off the cart, Tony. And hand me the Cap’n Crunch, will ya?”

Tony cracks a smile and complies with a brusque, “Sure thing, Cap’n.” Half the time they went places together, Tony complained the whole time but showed up anyway. Steve had begun to drag Tony places just because.

Well, that and it was nicer than being alone all the time.

Steve tosses the box in the cart, muttering, “We didn’t have five hundred options for cereal when I was coming up.”

“Did you have to boil everything?” Tony asks and Steve shoots him a pointed glare. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Having options?” he asks, lip caught in his teeth.

Steve shrugs, pushing the cart forward. “Still not used to it. It’s way better than going hungry, if that’s what you mean.” Tony winces and Steve hurries to add, “That wasn’t a dig at you.” He gestures to the broad selection of juice. “It’s gonna take some getting used to. Why are there forty different kinds of apple juice.”

Tony follows his gaze, adding, “Either you’re prone to hyperbole or you’re really bad at math.” An odd look comes over his face, “You know, this is the first time I’ve been to a grocery store in over thirty years.”

Steve pauses, “You’re kidding me.”

Tony laughs, “I’m really not. Jarvis always did this for me.”

“Your AI?” Steve asks and Tony gives a sad shake of his head.

“Family butler.” Steve doesn’t reply but he hurries to add, “I know how that looks. Jarvis took care of the house. My mother didn’t have the time and she wasn’t that kind of woman, anyway. She wasn’t cold just… not a homemaker. Jarvis took me to the store once but only because I begged.” He leans in conspiratorially, mischievous, “Imagine this little chubby eight year old begging to go to the grocery store.”

It was hard for Steve to imagine Tony as a kid. He was probably just as smart mouthed then as he was now. If they’d somehow known each other when they were kids, they might’ve gotten along. Or argued just as much as they did now. “Why’d you wanna go so badly?”

Tony rose a brow, a wry grin on his face. “I just wanted to spend time with Jarvis. My dad sent me to boarding school that year to toughen me up. Jarvis was the closest thing I had to a father. So, I didn’t see a mindless journey watching him pick up my dad’s favorite bourbon; I saw an hour and a half of following Jarvis around and pretending I wouldn’t have to leave in a few months.”

Steve froze, watching Tony’s face shift from wistful to sad. Then embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Steve insists. “I, uh… I’ll admit, I don’t know these kinds of things about you.”

Tony nods and then searches for something safe to say. He reaches behind Steve, that familiar scent wafting through the air as he pulls back a bottle of juice. “Just like you don’t know this is the best brand of apple juice?”

Steve lets him have the out, “Taking your word for it. If Hulk smashes another fridge because it’s the wrong one, I’m letting you explain it to him. I can’t look at his sad little face again.”

He pushes the cart down the aisle and smiles when he sees Tony pick a different juice in the corner of his eye.

+

 

Steve switches tactics and tries to think about this situation logically.

What does everyone see in Thor? He’s strong, fun, and he had gorgeous hair. That’s all well and good for the general public but they don’t live with the guy 24/7. They don’t see more than the surface with Thor but Tony does.

He saw Thor when he left his clothes strewn across the living room. He saw Thor when he was grumpy and starving and more inclined to physically move anyone in the way of the toaster. He also saw Thor when he was little too rambunctious and smashed furniture in celebration.

So, maybe Steve should try to figure out what _Tony_ likes about Thor?

+

“You know, I think you drag me here as punishment,” Tony says. He’d managed to climb into the basket and is sitting cross-legged while Steve pushes him around.

“And what exactly are you being punished for?” Steve asks, grabbing a tub of yogurt and handing it over.

Tony sets it down in the cart, grumbling at Steve. “I don’t know. I was late to dinner yesterday.”

“You’re late to dinner every day,” Steve says, handing him sour cream.

“I left the kitchen a mess this morning?”

“You know where the kitchen is?” Steve asks, feigning shock and Tony throws the bread at him. “I wasn’t on kitchen duty. Bruce was.”

Tony sighs, “Then why?”

 _Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just wanted to spend time with you?_ “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just wanted you to do some things for yourself?”

Tony frowns at him, affronted, “Because I’m a spoiled brat?”

Steve stops, shaking his head, “That’s not what I meant.” He scratches at his brow, “I think it’s nice to take care of things for your home yourself.”

Tony’s eyes widened, “Home?” he asks and Steve blushes.

“Well, that is what it is, right? For me anyway. Everything I knew is long gone but I have a room at the Tower. I have a place there. It’s mine,” he explains somberly and watches Tony frown up at him.

Then his eyes soften and then he tosses a bag of chips at Steve. “Way to get all sentimental on me, you big sap.”

Steve sighs, dropping Clint’s snack cakes on top of him. “I take it back: you are a brat.”

“But I’m your brat,” Tony adds as Steve pushes the cart down the aisle.

“So, Fury keeps telling me,” he says fondly.

+

In some ways, this tactic is the worst idea Steve could have come up with.

Once he starts looking, he can’t seem to stop and it leads to several discoveries.

The first: Thor would not stop touching Tony. Ever.

Thor touched his shoulder to get his attention. Gripped the back of his neck when he wanted to thank him for something. Picked him up when he was excited about anything. Okay, he did that once but it was still one time too many for Steve’s tastes. At movie night, he draped an arm over Tony’s shoulders and he didn’t seem to notice when Tony fell asleep on him.

Is Tony Thor’s favorite? Because it sure as hell seems like it.

However, these were things _Thor_ did. Steve still isn’t any closer to finding out why Tony likes Thor the best. Short of asking, observation is Steve’s only option. So, he looks past the touching.

Thor is certainly the most cheerful and enthusiastic of the team. Where Tony would receive a muted greeting from Nat, a distracted one from Bruce and a sarcastic comment from Clint, Thor is genuinely excited to see Tony every morning. He’s always up for celebrating the smallest of victories, including a day spent without being called out for an emergency.

Thor seems to argue with Tony less than anyone else.

Thor’s a lot nicer to Tony than the rest of them are.

Nat isn’t outwardly rude but she certainly wasn’t overly warm towards Tony. Although Steve knows that if it came down to it, she’d take anyone down for trying to hurt Tony – it isn’t the same thing as being outwardly nice to him. Clint’s a sarcastic jerk to just about everyone but Tony seems to get it worse than everyone else. Bruce is nice to Tony, if reserved. He isn’t the easiest person to talk to, though. And then there’s Steve. He’d like to say he’s nice but… is he?

He and Tony fight more than the others. It seemed everyday found some new issue for them to trade barbs over. Tony left coffee mugs everywhere. Steve had been a stubborn dick about this week’s battle strategy. Why didn’t Tony ever listen to Steve in the field? Why didn’t Steve ever back Tony’s plays in front of Fury? Every day, another argument and every night, Steve regretted it. It became routine for them to yell at each other and Steve had grown used to it.

The realization sets Steve back on his heels.

It’s one thing not to be an Asgardian god. Steve can’t control that or his short hair length (not quickly anyway). But he could have a say in how he treated Tony.

+

Tony doesn’t make it easy.

It’s not his fault; Steve knows that. Tony had grown accustomed to Steve treating him a certain way and for Steve to suddenly change required a transition period. Which seemed to involve Steve perpetually injuring himself in some way.

He’d started small: bringing Tony coffee in the lab. Unfortunately, he arrived just as Tony was coming up and Tony opened the door and smashed the mug into Steve’s shirt. He spilled hot coffee down his front with a high-pitched keen and Tony apologized profusely. Steve tugged his shirt off, poking at the tender, pink skin and Tony said, “This is not the way I imagined getting you shirtless,” which was confusing.

Then he tried baking cookies. Tony came in tapping away on his tablet. He reached down into the bottom drawer for a bottle of water and Steve forgot things in the oven get very hot and reached in for the cookie sheet barehanded. He pulled back immediately with a curse and stumbled into the open fridge door. Tony peeked around, “You need something, Cap?” and Steve just gave an embarrassed wave. “We have oven mitts, you crazy person!” he exclaimed.

He tried kindly leaving Tony behind on his next trip to the grocery store but Tony spent the rest of the day eying Steve like he’d wronged him in some way.

 

Steve tried compliments but Tony assumed they were all sarcastic. After a particularly brilliant move in a battle against AIM, Steve pet him on the shoulder. “Great job, Shellhead.”

Tony peers at him suspiciously, “You don’t have to say it: I know I could’ve come up with the idea to take out their plasma cannon earlier.”

Steve frowns, “No, I _genuinely_ meant ‘good job’.”

Tony rolls his eyes, “And I _genuinely_ know where you’re going with this. ‘Stop putting yourself in the line of fire unnecessarily. That’s my job’. I hear you.”

“Tony, I’m – well, that is good advice. Stop doing that. But, I was trying to tell you, you did a good job out there.” He stops, “Wait, is that what you think I sound like?”

Tony laughs, “No, it’s usually a lot more commanding. But it’s great. Really,” he says petting Steve’s shoulder. “Very bossy. It’s hot.”

He leaves Steve with a fluttering feeling in his stomach as he catches up with the others. Of course, Thor tosses an arm around Tony moments later. Swell.

Steve resolves to try something else.

 

+

The next time Tony wants to have a party, Steve agrees to it before Thor can get a word out. The room goes silent and Nat studies him intently. The others stare at him in confusion. Feeling a little defensive, Steve crosses his arms, “What? It could be fun.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Clint asks, reaching over to feel his forehead. Steve rolls his eyes and leans back. “You don’t have a fever.”

“Clint,” he stars and Tony takes up Clint’s cause.

“Seriously?” he asks, brow furrowed. “No ‘this is our home’, ‘what if we get called out?’, ‘why do you insist on bringing strangers here?', ‘I need the quiet to iron my dad jeans?’” Clint snorts, covering his mouth.

That hurt. “I can have fun,” Steve insists, a little whinier than he was going for.

“You can?” Clint asks and something about Steve’s expression takes the wind out of his sails. “That was mean. Sorry.”

Thor chimes in with a kind, “I think it’s a great idea. I’m glad the Captain’s on board.” He turns to Tony, “What are we celebrating?”

“I’m getting fired,” Tony says with a smile.

 

  
Tony wasn’t getting fired. However, he is lessening his involvement in running Stark Industries. Even more than he had before when he’d given Pepper the CEO position. Now, he’s officially just an idea man with no real insight into the business end of it. It’s what he’d wanted for ages, he says as he leans across the railing on the balcony. His eyes are bright and gleaming, _happy_. Steve’s never seen him quite like this. In the moonlight, Steve finds himself entranced for a moment. He shakes himself out of it, taking a swig of his beer. It didn’t do much for him but it gave the appearance of having fun.

“So, why wait ‘til now?” he asks and Tony gives a sheepish shrug. Steve realizes, nodding to himself. “You were waiting to see if this all panned out.”

“Can you blame me? We start out screaming at each other in a forest and then I nearly died. I’m still not entirely sure this is the best idea,” he admits, lowering his gaze for a moment.

“So, why keep doing it?” Steve asks. It comes out soft, almost so soft that he doubts Tony had heard but then he answers.

His voice equally soft yet certain. “It’s the right thing to do. If I can save roughly a thousand lives as one person, how many can we save as a group?” he lowers his eyes to his glass. It’s an amber colored liquid but Steve knew without tasting it, it was Ginger Ale. Tony never drank much these days. “What does it matter if we don’t always get along?”

“It matters if you’re happy,” Steve says with a frown, earning a curious stare. “I should make more of an effort not to pick fights with you.”

Tony frowns, “Don’t. I like fighting with you.” At Steve’s disbelief, he explains, “Not always but when it’s little stuff like putting ketchup on hash browns or fighting over whether to watch Grey’s Anatomy or CSI, it’s almost… fun? I mean, you’re obviously wrong but it’s entertaining because you think you’re right.”

“McDreamy’s an asshole,” Steve states plainly and Tony’s laugh was probably the best sound Steve had ever heard. His eyes were alit, voice rich and full and Steve felt his stomach flip.

“McDreamy’s a national treasure. You just like CSI because you like dad jokes.”

“I like heroes saving the day. I don’t like watching wise guys get away with being jerks just because they’re ‘creamy’ or ‘steamy’ or whatever.” Tony chokes on a laugh, stumbling over his retort.

“CSI doesn’t care about science.”

“And Grey’s Anatomy does?” He holds out a hand and starts counting off, “Let’s talk about the probability of that many bad things happening to one hospital.”

“Let’s talk about a crime lab getting all of those samples catalogued and examined in a matter of hours,” Tony replies.

“One of your main characters got hit by a bus! Someone blew up inside your hospital!”

“One of your main characters got buried alive!”

“At least the people are nice to each other!”

“You have an irrational hatred for Patrick Dempsey!” he shouts and the fire he found there drew a laugh from Steve. It was louder than he expected, bubbling up from within as his chest shook with it and he had an odd moment of clarity.

He’d laughed since he’d woken up? He must have, right? Yet, he feels as if this is one of the first times he’d really laughed since before the ice. His surprise must show on his face because Tony leans in, eyes soft.

“You okay, Cap?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You have a great laugh, you know?” he adds with a smile. “You should laugh more often.”

Steve knows it isn’t a critique but he takes it as one. “I don’t like being this way, you know?” He sits his beer down, resting on the railing. “I wasn’t always the serious one – well, yeah, I was. Buck… Bucky was the fun one.”

“You’re fun, Steve,” Tony insists.

“I’m not. Never have been,” he says with a quick smile. “I’m never gonna be the guy that brings the house down or dances on tables. I’m just me. I like talking to people one on one. I like watching movies.”

“Is this from your Ok Cupid profile?” At Steve’s confusion, he waves it off. “That’s okay, Cap. The future is yours. The internet was built for loners like you. Even more so if you like sarcasm. It’s full of that.”

“Yeah, but who wants to hang out with sarcasm when you can have the fun guy?”

Tony shrugs, leaning over to rest his elbows on the railing. ”Me. Fun guys gotta hang out with someone.”

+

“You ever wonder where Bruce puts it all?” Tony asks, tossing a package of portabella mushrooms into the basket. He turns to stare at Steve, “He’s a tiny man.”

“You’re tiny,” Steve says just to watch Tony’s face will scrunch up adorably. “I don’t know, I assumed it was all for the Hulk. He’s always hungry after.”

“Sometimes we go days without a Hulk out. Then what?” Tony asks and Steve frowns.

“I don’t know.” He catches the broccoli, cauliflower and carrots as Tony tosses the packages at him one after the other. They’re a well-coordinated machine at this point. It’d even been a while since Tony had outwardly complained about having to come with him. “Maybe he burns a lot of calories as Bruce?”

“Weird,” Tony says. He lowers his eyes, picking at the basket’s handle. When he looks up, he’s clearly nervous. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, why?” Steve asks.

“It’s just… you’ve kinda been acting weird for a while now. I thought maybe ‘that’s just Steve’ but the longer it goes on, it kinda seems like something’s bothering you.” He studies Steve and intently and Steve flusters a bit, having never had Tony focus on him like this.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, you’re clumsier these days. The other day, I walked in on you making a sandwich and you nearly stabbed Clint. Which, I mean, hey, we’ve all been there but that doesn’t seem like normal you behavior.” Steve remembers that incident. Tony had walked in and Steve got a little too enthusiastic about offering Tony a sandwich and Clint’s evasive maneuver sent him tumbling over the open dishwasher.

Steve starts to object, to say he’s fine and that had been an isolated incident but Tony goes on. Apparently, he paid more attention to Steve than Steve thought he did. “Then you chewed Clint out for making fun of me which is weird. And you didn’t ask me to come with you the last time you stocked up on grub so what’s up? You wanna fill me in?”

Steve swallows because, in a pattern like that with the incidents Tony hadn’t been privy to, a different conclusion starts to take form. One that suggested that maybe Steve _isn’t_ doing this just to prove a point to himself.

“I, uh… I’m still getting used to-“ something sharp nudges into him and he turns.

An older woman pulls her cart back, a regretful smile on her face. “Sorry, dears. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She bustles past, adding, “You make a wonderful couple.”

Steve blushes, lowering his eyes with a small wave as she leaves. Tony preens, bumping Steve with his shoulder, “Don’t we, sweetheart?”

“Quiet, you,” Steve chides but he felt overwarm.

“I’m just saying, she’s not wrong. I’ve always thought so,” he points out, eyes wide and honest.

“You have, have you?” Steve asks doubtfully. Sometimes Tony teased him with things like this and it was fun until it wasn’t.

Tony hums, pushing the cart along. “For approximately ten minutes. Then you opened your mouth and I reconsidered.”

Steve rolls his eyes but it stung a little. “Well, I’m sure she just assumed since we’re shopping for groceries together.”

“Sure, sure,” Tony says, grabbing Clint’s potato chips. “Which we’ll put in our car and drive back to our place.”

Steve shakes his head, his stomach in knots. He can’t quite explain it but he pastes a smile on his face, “The place we share with four other people, you mean?”

Tony smiles and then asks quietly, “You would tell me if something was going on, right?”

+

After the party, Steve tries a new tactic. Okay, a new, new, _new_ tactic. If there’s one thing he’d be better at than Thor, it’s the great American pastime.

“Baseball!” he announces, setting a bag down on the kitchen counter. The team stares at him blankly. “Baseball?” he repeats in a smaller voice and Tony takes up his cause.

“You wanna go? I can get tickets,” he began but Steve shakes his head excitedly. Tony blinks at him, setting down his coffee.

“No way; we’re gonna play,” he announces confidently. Now, Nat raises a brow and looked to Tony expectantly. Steve knows that look: it’s the “Talk some sense into our dear Captain” look. Usually, when Cap was being a little too particular about a battle strategy or he just didn’t understand Clint. But today, Steve’s a little confused.

“What is this?” Thor asks excitedly and Steve looks to him gratefully.

“Best game in the world, buddy. I can teach you to play,” he says.

Bruce set down his tea, arms outstretched. “I can’t play but I’ll keep score?”

“Lucky bastard,” Tony mutters but Steve’s looking to him with so much hope that Tony eventually gives in with a sigh. “Okay, okay. This will be a disaster but I’m game.”

 

  
Happy meets them at the park with a bemused look on his face. “You sure about this boss?” he asks and Tony gives a weak smile.

“Sure thing, Hap.”

Steve lays out all the rules. He has to explain the part about running bases a few times to make sure Thor understood. Nat is suspiciously quiet but seems quite eager to challenge Clint to see who could get the most runs. Probably because Clint is the cockiest of the group.

“Well, we’re playing against the world’s biggest dork and Tony Stark. I think we’ll be okay,” Clint explains and Tony blushes.

“Super soldier, Bird Brain,” he counters.

“Chess club champion, Iron Mom,” he replies and Tony glares. “I got it in the bag.”

Steve chimes in, “No offense, but everyone on my team understands how the game works. You got 2 newbies.”

Natasha raises a brow, a dangerous smile on her face and Tony hides behind Steve. “This will be fun,” she drawls and Tony curses behind Steve.

“Fun?” he repeats weakly. “Is that the right word?”

 

Tony is awful at baseball.

And that’s Steve being kind. Tony seems to pinpoint exactly where the ball will be and manages to plant himself as far away from it as possible. This is an abbreviated game with only 6 players but even so, the smaller section of the park they’d claimed for themselves gave Tony just enough space to flee from the ball.

Steve thought he might do better with batting but even that doesn’t go smoothly. Steve stands behind Tony, arms around him to guide him. He’s shaking minutely and Steve can’t believe Tony is this nervous. He seemed fearless about just about everything else. Tony shoots him a timid smile, hands shaking as he looks back at the mound. Clint’s tossing the ball in the air in preparation, a smug grin on his face. After all, he’s winning 5-0, so of course he’s smug.

“You just need to relax,” Steve says confidently.

“I need to sit down,” Tony replies. “Let old Hulkster out. I’m sure he’d love to play.” Then he grumbles, “I’m sure he’d love to wipe that smirk off Cupid’s face.”

“You think I wanna spend another hour explaining why we drop the bat when we run?” Steve asks and Tony laughs.

“No, no, I guess you don’t.” He turns, his face inches from Steve and Steve’s next reassuring words stick his throat. “This is a lost cause, Cap.”

“Game’s not over yet,” Steve says, the words bringing a smile to his face. “I’ve seen the pros bounce back from worse.” Tony eyes him doubtfully and turns around dejectedly.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

Steve takes up behind him again, “Now, this is all about timing.” He touches Tony’s forearm, sparks travelling up his arm. Swallowing, he explains, “Don’t worry about putting too much power into the swing.” He guides Tony through the motion, his eyes caught on the way Tony’s chewed on his lip, focused. He’s really nervous and Steve hides a smile behind his back. It’s the game. Clearly, it’s the game.

Steve steps back, “Okay, play ball!” Clint beams and gets ready, eyes narrowing.

“I’ll toss it slowly. Just for you,” he calls teasingly. He throws the pitch.

Tony misses the first swing.

But he hits the second one.

 

Happy takes over pitching because it was “painful to watch” apparently and Steve races out to help Tony in the small outfield they’d cornered for themselves. Tony seems hell-bent on avoiding the ball which leaves Steve doing the job pretty much solo.

He uses it as a training opportunity. There are some fantastic catches. Steve caught one in an impressive slide. One in a somersault. One he caught moments before it hit Tony in the face and Steve nearly trampled over him, catching him in his arms instead.

They tumble to the ground and roll, knocking the air out of them both. Tony laughs as Steve settles on top, smiling up at him, eyes bright and amused. “My hero,” he croons and Steve cracks a goofy smile.

“I’ve got your back,” he says mock seriously. He misses the chance to tag Clint out but Tony is gazing up at him with a soft, fond look on his face and Steve stomach is doing somersaults.

 

A few innings later, Tony watches Steve snatch a ball out of the air as he scrambles away from it.

“You’re really bad at this, aren’t you?” Steve asks teasingly and he’s pleased when Tony spares a small smile instead of taking offense.

“Really bad at it,” he admits. “As much as it pains me, there is some truth to what Clint said.”

“Then why do it?” Steve asks and Tony blushes. He opens his mouth to answer when Nat smacks a ball their way. It was pretty spectacular and Steve is rather impressed. Tony starts to step aside for Steve to catch it when Steve has an idea.

He snatches Tony up in his arms and raises him up. “Put your glove out.”

“Cap, this is a bad idea!” he objects, looking down at Steve, face flushed.

“It’s a great one. Look, she hit it perfectly. It’s coming straight toward you.” Tony is warm in his arms, squirming a little bit but he trusts Steve’s grip.

“You’re putting my face in the potential danger zone and I like my face,” he whines.

“I like your face, too. Focus on catching it,” Steve says and he’d realize later what he said. At the moment, Tony holds his glove out, turning his face away and Steve stifles a laugh against his back.

There’s a smack and when Tony opens his eyes, the ball is in his mitt. He stares at it in amazement for a moment before cheering. He turns in Cap’s arms and wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “Holy shit, that was amazing!”

Steve grins, heart pounding as he takes in the adoring look in Tony’s eyes. God, he’d do anything to keep Tony looking at him like that.

“You’re the best, Steve,” he says, eyes crinkled in the corners and Steve grew tongue tied.

He tries to respond when Thor shouts, “Great work, my fair friend!”

Steve finally tears his eyes away from Tony to see that Natasha had swung again.

It was a great swing.

A fantastic one.

Steve is very proud.

 

When Steve comes to, his team is peering down at him worriedly.

“Did we win?” he asks and Bruce snorts.

“We sure did, Big Guy,” Tony says and Clint began to object until Tony glares at him. Clint sighs, sitting back on his knees. Tony frowns down at him concernedly, “How you feeling?”

Stupid. Clueless. But wait, there, that throbbing pain in his head. “Ow,” he mutters, sitting up.

Tony takes hold of his shoulders to slow him down. “Careful, easy.”

“Well, the good news is: Nat is pretty damn great at batting,” Clint announces.

“The bad news is: you’re gonna have a pretty nasty bruise for a while,” Tony adds and Steve nods. Tony pulls him up carefully, hands soft, his scent in Steve’s nose. “Let’s get you home.”

 

Tony sat him down at the kitchen counter and brings him an ice pack. Steve takes it with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Tony,” he says quietly and Tony pets him on the shoulder.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Just swell,” he replied to make Tony laugh. He pulls the ice pack away for a bit to ask, “So, it wasn’t too bad?”

“You’re still ridiculously handsome,” Tony drawls and Steve blushes but that wasn’t what he’d been referring to.

“No, I mean, you didn’t have too bad a time, right?” Tony smiles and shakes his head.

“No, I enjoyed some of it.”

“You had fun?” Steve asks and Tony nods. Steve sighs, picking the ice pack up again. “Good. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I - I didn’t think that maybe you hated sports.”

Tony shrugs, “I don’t hate them. It’s just not my thing. I never really had time. I was always working on my projects and then I went to MIT at 15. Plus, my dad wasn’t really the type to toss a ball around.”

Tony looks a little miserable at the moment and Steve frowns at him. In the short time he’d known Howard, he certainly didn’t seem the type to play catch. It paints a pretty sad picture of Tony’s childhood. “Well, it’s never too late.”

Tony shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. He switches gears, “So, the baseball thing was true about you.”

“Hmm?”

“Well, you know how sometimes history books lie about things. Make everything seem a little less bleak or make sure America comes out looking squeaky clean. You actually do like baseball?” he asks.

“I _love_ baseball,” Steve corrects.

“And you loved the Dodgers?” Tony asks hesitantly. Steve fears he’s going to say something horrible like he’d been raised a Yankees fan.

“I was an intellectual, yes,” Steve says and Tony laughs.

“And you were a comic book artist? Before the war?”

“Yep, it paid the bills,” he replies, leaning forward in interest. This is fun, “What else?”

Tony winces, a beautiful flush coming over his cheeks. “I’m sorry, it’s really weird that I know all this stuff about you.”

“No, no, it’s kinda fun to see what the history books got right. Go on.”

“You once raided a Hydra base in your underwear?”

“What?” Steve asks, laughing softly.

“I read that! It was in somewhere in France and you and the Howling Commandos found out about an undercover base inside a bathhouse so, you…” he trails off, his face beet red.

Steve tries to think back further; he knows the story is false but some part of it had to be based in truth, right? “No… don’t remember any Hydra based disguised as bathhouses. Found Dugan tied up in one though.” Tony leans forward in interest, eyes bright. “He uh, got involved with the wrong dame. That’s putting it nicely. When she found out he had to leave the next morning and he _wasn’t_ gonna call on her again, she tied him to a pole and left him there. We only found him because he was supposed to drive that day and he had the keys.”

Tony laughs, “Been there.” Steve raises a brow but Tony moves on, “Okay, I know one that had to be complete bullshit.”

“What?”

Tony’s eyes gleam, clearly amused. “You’re an expert pole dancer.” Steve blushes, lowering his head. He can feel Tony’s eyes on him and then he exclaims, “No way!”

Steve nods, biting down a laugh. “It’s not entirely false.” He peeks at Tony through his lashes. “France again.”

Tony’s eyes widen, “I have to hear this one.”

“Well, Gabe brought us to a burlesque club. It was a fairly new thing, you know and Morita bet me $5 I couldn’t do it and I accepted the challenge. Turns out, I was pretty damn good at it.”

Tony studies him for a moment, eyes darkening and Steve felt a flash of heat travel down his spine. “I’d like to see that sometime.”

Steve shakes his head, lowering his gaze. “The serum didn’t give me the gift of rhythm, mind you.”

“We can fix that,” Tony says.

+

“Isn’t the ‘there’s only one bed’ thing a little overdone?” Tony asks, pulling his suitcase over to the far wall. “I mean, there are more forward ways to get me in bed, Rogers,” he says and Steve rolls his eyes, even as his heart beats faster.

Fury had sent them to Kansas of all places to deal with suspected alien activity. Normally, he’d send one of his agents but, seeing as these aliens seemed to have tech similar to the Chitauri, Fury wanted to be sure. And seeing as this was a fairly small hotel off the freeway during festival season, there was only one room available.

“You caught me,” Steve says dryly. “This has all been an elaborate ruse to get you into bed with me.”

“You cad,” Tony says with a smirk. He lies back on the bed and gazes up at the ceiling. “Do you plan on buying me dinner before you have your way with me?”

“Why am I always feeding you?” Steve asks, stripping off his jacket. “You could take over for a change.”

“You don’t really want me to, do you?” Tony asks quietly and Steve frowns. “I mean, you’re a pretty controlling guy. You like things a certain way, you take control of most situations and you give orders like it’s second nature. I mean, I had just as much information as you did coming here but you still marched forward to check us in because it’s what you do.”

Steve’s stomach twists and he lowers his eyes to the carpet, mulling this over. “I – I guess I could stand to let other people lead every once in a while.” He crosses his arms over his chest, feeling a little exposed. “I didn’t realize I did that.”

“Hey,” Tony says and when Steve doesn’t look up, he scoots closer to the edge of the bed, “We’re all little control freaks. Natasha gets tense any time anyone looks at her gear. Clint nearly stabbed me when I reached for his quiver; not a euphemism, by the way. Bruce is one tightly wound ball of hippie tension. Thor… well Thor is Thor,” he says with a smile that makes Steve feel even worse.

“And I built lock codes on top of lock codes to my lab. I have armor made out of organic materials in case I encounter someone that can move metal,” he explains. Then his voice softens, “And I’m still trying to build armors to combat a threat I can’t even measure.” He looks up at Steve with a humorless grin and Steve steps forward, reaching out carefully. Tony’s eyes widen in surprise before he accepts the hug, his breath warm and wet over Steve’s stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “I didn’t think about how hard this might be for you.” Tony sighs, petting Steve’s back before pulling away.

“We might not even find anything.”

Steve rubs his shoulders, “Maybe not. But it’s late and we should get some sleep.”

Tony cocks his head to the side, “You trying to speed things along, Tiger?” he asks slyly.

“You’re gonna have to buy me dinner first,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head. “My mother raised me right.” He folds it and sets it on top of his suitcase. When he turns, Tony is eying him consideringly. He swallows, his feet carrying him over to the bed.

He licks his lips as Tony holds his gaze and says, “I’m sure she wouldn’t like me defiling her son in a motel room in Kansas.” Steve’s heart beats fast in his chest, mouth dry. Tony’s eyes darken before he shakes himself a little and lowers his gaze, “It’s late. I’ll… see what they have to order downstairs.”

Steve watches him leave in confusion.

 

After dinner, they climb underneath the covers quietly. Tony had been somber all throughout dinner, dodging ever last one of Steve’s attempt at conversation. It was odd and more than a little uncomfortable but Steve didn’t know how to breach the subject. Eventually, they split up to take showers and get ready for bed. Now, Steve lie on his back staring up at a stain that reminded him of someone, he couldn’t quite place it.

Twenty minutes pass before Tony mutters, “Chester A Arthur.” Steve looks to him, making out Tony’s outline in the dark room. “That’s what it looks like.”

Steve squints for a moment and then laughs, “I was thinking Grover Cleveland but you’re right.” Tony laughs and then the room quiets, save for the sound of passing cars outside. Finally, “Hey, what happened earlier?”

“What do you mean?” Tony asks, rolling over to face him head on. It was hard to make out the expression on his face in the dark but Steve turns anyway. They lie there, their faces a foot or so apart.

“You just… shut down. Did I do something wrong? Did I – did I make you uncomfortable?” he asks.

Tony shifts awkwardly before he says, “I’m not… I’m not here to judge you, you know? I get that things were different before and you’re still trying to adjust to the ways things are now. I get that and I know it sucks to finally realize something about yourself and realize you have feelings for the wrong person.” Steve’s heart pounds, breathing too loud in his ears.

Tony knows. He knows about Steve’s stupid little clueless challenge and he’d been trying to find a way to kindly reject him. God, how long has he known? How long had Steve been making him feel uncomfortable?

“Tony, listen, I honestly didn’t mean to make you feel-“ he starts when Tony goes on.

“We joke a lot but sometimes, I think you’re serious. And if you are, you should know that you can do a hell of a lot better than me,” he says quietly and Steve’s chest tightens. “I’m… a mess, for lack of a better word. I mean, you’re probably feeling guilty or something and that’s keeping you awake. I haven’t slept in two days because when I sleep, I see nothing but darkness and space. I’m not the nicest person to be around and half the time, I'm convinced everyone just tolerates me. I’m not good company.”

Steve listens to him quietly and starts to understand something new entirely. He’d been so busy comparing himself to Thor and he’d never stopped to wonder if maybe Tony did the same thing. “When I woke up, Fury tried to pass off a room at SHIELD headquarters as a 1940s hospital room.” Tony is quiet, listening intently. “I knew something was off but couldn’t quite put my finger on it and I ran out into the street. I think maybe he wanted me to dip my toe into the future, so to speak before diving in headfirst but that’s what I do. No half measures.

“A lot of things changed from then to now but a few things stayed the same. I know a hero when I see one and I know I have a hard time admitting when I’m wrong.” He leans in closer, watching Tony’s eyes widen. “I was wrong about you. You nearly died for New York. You were willing to fly that nuke into space without any hesitation because that’s the kind of man you are. You’re not pretending to be a hero. Half the time, you’re pretending you’re not one. But I see you.”

Tony is quiet, watching Steve for a moment before he whispers, “Is this the part where I say ‘you’re really great, too’?” Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Because you are. You’re pretty damn great. I give you a hard time because that’s what I do but I’m glad you’re here with me.”

He takes a deep breath, “You’re forbidden from ever repeating this but, I actually like spending time with you. Even if you’re forcing us to watch classic films or dragging me to go grocery shopping with you… I don’t mind it when it’s you.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks softly, feeling overly warm.

Tony touches Steve’s cheek gently, his breath catching. It’s soft; a barely there brush of lips before Steve deepens it. His eyes fall closed, sliding forward beneath the covers as he opens for Tony. It’s the closeness he hadn’t known how the ask for; the closeness he hadn’t realized he wanted and he loses himself in the thrill of it. The warmth of this pocket of space they’d created for themselves in the most unlikely of places. He breathes in Tony’s scent and revels in the soft sounds he draws from his lips.

He rolls on top, chasing more of them as Tony draws him in.

+

Tony smells like a mix of his cologne and Steve’s aftershave. Steve’s pretty sure he has beard burn on the left side of his chin and if the light brush of pink across the make-up artist’s nose meant anything, it’s pretty obvious how it got there. Tony had been a smug jerk about it earlier, sitting cross legged in an armchair beside them as the artist continued covering Steve’s face.

Now they’re sitting beside each other as Ellen smiles at them in good humor. “So, Ms. Potts sent us a picture of you, Mr. Stark and I gotta tell you, it’s pretty darn cute.”

Tony frowns, staring out towards the backstage area where Pepper had been earlier. When he returns to her he winces comically, “I’m afraid.”

Ellen points at the screen behind them and there’s a picture of Tony. He can’t have been older than eight years old and he’s dressed in a miniature Captain America costume, shield and all. Steve’s grins, his eyes wide as he stares at it. “You look so happy,” Steve says and Tony sighs.

“Jarvis probably put me in that. I was like six years old and I wouldn’t shut up about you. That’s embarrassing.” He turned to Ellen, “This is embarrassing.” The audience laughs and Ellen. pulls up some cards.

“Was he your favorite?” she asks and Tony shrugs, even as Steve’s face warms.

“Maybe.” The picture transitions to one of Steve and Tony at a premiere smiling at each other. Steve winces a little because surely someone could’ve chosen a picture where he looked a little less smitten. “I mean I guess I kinda like the guy. He’s pretty cute,” he adds, looking to Steve fondly.

“It’s like pulling teeth,” Steve notes, looking to Ellen conspiratorially. “He’s my favorite, if that matters.” He feels Tony twine their fingers together and smiles softly.

He pulls Steve’s hand to his lips, murmuring, “It matters to me.”


End file.
